Tempera
by DeveryLeafwood
Summary: Paint did more than capture life. It was a liquid that penetrated skin but for Nareli, gypsy and bastard daughter of Brace, Horace Delaney's man servant, paint made her dreams bleed and made her see.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright or trademark infringement is intended and no money is being made from this story. It is purely a fanfiction story.

A/N: I write fanfiction for fun and to keep my creative muscles in shape when I need to write something that is not my own original novel, poems and short stories. This fanfiction is just a hobby along with my other ones (plus I've always wanted to give fanfiction ago and see what happens). Updating might be irregular but enjoy and let me know what you think.

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Water.

Dark and stormy.

Wet earth.

The dark and muddy kind, she could still smell it at the end of her nose.

Her paint stained fingers reached for her clay pipe and she made a fresh pipe of tobacco to get rid of the stench.

Soot. The kind that came tumbling down an unclean chimney. She saw that too. Ash that came from bone, flashed in the water and dark lines.

Nareli glanced at her latest creation and exhaled a deep breath of smoke. The oil painting looked like a walking nightmare. A complete monstrosity that would no doubt sell once she found the right kind of morbid customer.

It was a darn pity, it wasn't a commission piece, she thought because there was no other way she would've thought of such a monstrosity to paint. She had her clairvoyance to blame for that. The images came in flickers through her dreams and it was only through painting that damn thing that she could make sense of it. Once painted, the images finally left.

This particular dream had been haunting her mind for the past three days. It got so bad that she had to forgo sleep the previous eve to paint it.

"What kind of beast are you?" The whispered words flew from her tongue and the painting, as always, didn't speak. Instead, it showed what she had been seeing.

Out of the murky water and scattered tree, she painted a dark figure covered in ash and the strangest of markings. The only human thing about the figure was his piercing blue eyes.

She traced one of the bold tattoos with a careful eye. They weren't gyspy at all in origin. Irish or Romani and she would know from her many travels with her gypsy clan. But those days were far and few in-between.

Brace, her rather grouchy and aging father needed the financial assistance and he always refused to take on the gypsy lifestyle even before her mother died from a case of yellow fever. So when she got word that Horace Delaney wasn't fairing well, she travelled back to the dreary streets of London. The old master soon died after her return so she setup shop as a wayward artist, fortune teller and performer with the local gypsies.

Horace Delaney only had a daughter left to inherit his estates and Nareli hoped that Zilpha Geary would allow her aging father keep on to maintain the Chamber House. But all of that was up in the air until the lawyers read Horace Delaney's will.

Her father didn't know how she made the bulk of her fortune. He thought she made a reasonable wage by selling paintings of landscapes. He didn't know that she made the bulk of her fortune by painting nudes for higher society and he didn't need to know that either. It was because of this that she mostly painted in brothel establishments.

Nareli knew Helga von Hinten from her youth and the madam was keenly business-minded. She gave her a small room to work in at her brothel for a small price. The ironic part was that Helga operated in the old Delaney shipping offices by the docks.

She had no idea who the shadowed man in the painting was so she stepped away to pour some coffee. The telltale sounds of the old wooden floor creaked and moaned under her moving weight. She also heard the faint groans of an aging fellow directly beneath and she raised eyebrows. Her makeshift studio was above the main foyer.

Helga didn't usually start taking clients this early in the morning. It was an odd occurrence but oh well, business was business. She briefly wondered how long the old fool downstairs would last when she suddenly overheard a scuffle. Helga raised her voice and then bitter silence followed.

Out of curiosity and concern for Helga, Nareli quickly put her coffee down and reached for her pistol, which she kept ready to go. She stuck her pipe back in her mouth and tiptoed out of her studio. She glanced down the hall and saw some of the girls, who looked like they just woke up, quietly peek through the stair railings in their nightgowns. They looked startled out of their wits.

Nareli crawled up to their side on light feet and quietly told them to back up for their safety. The few girls quietly obeyed without question and Nareli moved past. She glanced through the railing when she made it to the stairs and she spotted Helga stand toe-to-toe with a very tall, broad-shouldered man in a top hat and long coat.

Helga looked like she was in a heated conversation match with the strange man that was now holding something metal up to Helga's throat. It could've been a knife for all she knew, so Nareli immediately went on the defensive and took aim while she stealthy moved down the stairs.

The man unexpectedly lashed out and kicked the table beside Helga and the wood shattered underneath his boot, along with the lamp on top.

"People who do not know me soon come to understand that I do not have any sense," The man spoke clearly in unspoken threat and shook what looked like a key in front of Helga's face.

Nareli then made her presence known by cocking her pistol. The telltale sound immediately made the man turn his top hat towards her and stern ocean blue eyes flashed her way.

"Funny. People tend to say the same about me," she pointed her pistol straight at his head and the man took a cautious step away from Helga. He didn't look frightened one bit though much to her annoyance.

"Order your girl to heel," The man ordered in a gruff voice and Helga looked in-between them, uneasily.

"I am no one's girl," Nareli hissed.

"Esther," Helga quickly called for her attention by using her Christian name instead of her Romani one but Nareli kept her focus on the strange man. He sized her up with critical blue eyes that strangely felt familiar. They were the same electric shade of blue as the figure's eyes in her painting.

The man looked to be in his late thirties and he had a rugged beard that matched the scar going over his right eye. If she weren't currently prepared to shoot the bastard, she would think he was handsome.

He hummed deep in his throat then and dismissed her completely to her surprise as if he no longer decreed her as a threat.

"Get out!" She left the stairs completely with a growl and he glared her way again. He moved to make a step towards her but Helga quickly stepped in front of her and forced her pistol upwards.

"I remember you," Helga told the man and he glared down his nose her way instead.

"Now, please do not misunderstand the situation," he spoke again with that gruff voice.

"You send me 12 men, I will return you 12 sets of testicles in a bag, and we can watch your little whores devour them together, before I chop off your trotters and boil them."

The image made Nareli feel sick but she kept her face emotionless like Helga.

"Two hours," The man grounded out and turned around to take his leave.

"I remember you," Helga spoke loudly to his back.

"Heard the stories. If I give you a girl, I will never see her again."

The man glared their way again and his gaze made silent, dark promises.

"You heard right. Be punctual." He finally took his leave with a flutter of his dark coat tails. Helga didn't breath out in relief until he left and Nareli uncocked her pistol.

"Who was that?" She demanded and Helga's dark eyes said it all.

"James Delaney."


	2. Chapter 2

Nareli never had the fortune of crossing paths with James Delaney in her youth. She crossed paths with Zilpha a few times whenever her mother took her to visit her father at the Chamber House. Brace preferred to keep their existence a secret from their masters because he feared they would catch the same madness that cursed nearly every Delaney in the end.

As far as she knew, James Delaney was assumed dead when he disappeared ten years ago and she never gave the man another thought until today.

Helga wasn't forthcoming with her questions about the undead man until she produced some coin. The madam gave her the bare bones of what she knew and feed her the rumors.

In his adolescence, James became a Corporal with the East Indian Company and he grew to become a shrouded enigma wrapped up in mystery in adulthood. The rumors say he went to Africa and came back irrevocably changed in the most savage of ways.

Some say, the man is a homicidal manic. People disappeared around him. Others say, he shared the same mental afflictions that drove his mother to an early grave. Many more say he is a cannibalistic barbarian who had an attraction for the morbid.

In other words, James Delaney was an oddity in the eyes of civilized society.

Nareli took all of this information with a grain of salt but she didn't doubt for a second the extent of James's rumored temper and violate nature. The man was an unpredictable explosion when he was provoked. She saw that first hand.

After Helga finished telling the tale of James Delaney, she asked Nareli her thoughts on the man and the gyspy artist surprised her with silence. She then told Helga not to touch her things while she moved out of the abandoned warehouse. Helga snorted at the suggestion and quite adamantly stated that she had no intentions of moving her business elsewhere.

Nareli smiled at the woman's backbone and left to see the gyspy clan that frequented the docks near Wapping. For a small price, she hired two men to help her transport her paintings from the warehouse. She wasn't taking any chances. With their assistance, she stored her completed works, somewhere dry in the lost catacombs of London. A series of underground passageways that only the true misfits of London knew about. It was a completely different world down there and the space had it's own power structure.

It was nightfall by the time they got the deed done and Nareli finally made her way back to the Chamber House. She had scarcely visited the place since her return to London. She preferred the nomad ways of her people and unlike other women of her age; Nareli was not caged by the expectations of marriage and her sex. But family bound her and her father was her last immediate relative alive. Her mother, Simza, only had one child.

Nareli was never one to prolong the inevitable unless she could. Horace Delaney's son was alive and this changed everything. It looked like she would be stuck in London a little longer than she liked.

People barely noticed her while she made her way through the streets and that was because she made it so. For her protection, she learned early on to dress as a poor peasant boy but she still carried weapons underneath her threadbare jacket, dark trousers and boots. She hid her long brown curls underneath her tunic and drawn cap. She also smudged her face with dirt.

The familiar cobblestone streets and oil street lamps led her to the Chamber House in no time. She walked briskly passed the aging front door with its unkempt garden beds. She never used the front door. The back door was the only entranceway she was allowed to use when Horace Delaney was alive. Old habits were hard to break. She slipped around to the back and climbed the metal fence when the coast was clear. Years ago, she was small enough to slip through the bars.

The manor was slowly sinking due to water damage and her boots, as always, squished through the mud while she walked to the back door. She spotted a few lights burning through the windows, along with the familiar silhouette of her aging father.

As a common courtesy to him because she knew who had to wash the floors, she kicked off her muddy boots and left them outside. This also gave her time to work out her strategy for keeping Brace here because deep down she knew; freedom would not suit her father. He wouldn't know what to do with it.

The thud of her boots hitting stone also gave Brace fair warning of her presence.

"You shouldn't be here, petal pie," Brace warned in a hush when she entered but Nareli dismissed his concern.

She hanged up her coat and hat and shook out her long curls. Brace looked up and stopped slicing bread at the kitchen table. Worry and fatherly concern flashed through his old blue eyes.

"When was the last time ye bathed?" He couldn't help but scold in a low voice when he spotted her dirty face and paint stained arms. Nareli rolled her eyes.

"I'll sneak ye upstairs and draw ye a bath and then you can go. Let me finish serving dinner, first," he continued to speak in low voice and again, Nareli stayed as silent as a mouse which was never a good sign in Brace's experience.

"Esther Nareli Badis-Thomas," he warned. She was on thin ice now. Her father only said her full name when she was in trouble.

With quick hands, Nareli reached for the plate of sliced bread and took the knife out of his hand. Brace didn't stop her, in fear of nicking her skin with the knife. He watched his hardheaded daughter pop a slice of bread into her mouth. She couldn't help but raise her eyebrows at the fine china he used to serve the bread; it was the best in the house and was scarcely used since Horace passed away.

"Nice china!" She gushed on purpose in a loud girlish manner and swallowed. Brace grimaced. There was no way; he could lie about her presence now. Nareli's voice carried.

With a twirl of her bare feet, she left the kitchen with the bread. Knowledge of the old house helped her find the dining room in record time and James Delaney made no visible reaction to her appearance except to take his socked feet off the table and sit up properly.

Nareli didn't say a word while she put the bread on the table and popped another slice into her mouth. She simply pulled out a chair and sat next to him at the table. James just watched her munch on the slice of bread with expressionless eyes but he did keep an eye on her hand with the knife.

He faintly heard his manservant enter the dining room.

"I thought your fascination with the gypsies ended years ago, Brace," James muttered and Nareli glanced at her father. The old coot looked like he had swallowed his tongue. He thought he kept his gyspy fornicating ways a well-kept secret.

"It did," Nareli spoke up for him and James glared her way. His natural intensity bleed through his blue eyes this time. It was like he knew everything about her already, she better keep her wits about her with this one. But at the same time, Nareli couldn't help but admire James's quick resourcefulness.

"A bread knife?" He drawled to her weapon of choice this time. "I feel insulted." Nareli's mouth twitched at the comment.

"You know who I am," she chose to ignore the comment and point out the obvious and James tilted his head to side, as if he was hearing things only he could hear.

"Tight tongues do tend to loosen."

The bastard bribed Helga for information, goddamit. She needed to have a serious talk with that madam and one of those talks will include the status of their business partnership.

There were many brothels in London. Thank goodness she knew to vacate the premises with her paintings before confronting him.

"Sir," Brace finally found his voice again and approached the table but James kept his piercing blue eyes on Nareli.

"You have nothing to worry about. Brace is a loyal and faithful servant. Always has and always will be. Will or not, I plan to look out for your father, regardless," James spoke solemnly but Nareli didn't believe him for one second. Not until the lawyers read out the will, would she trust a thing in regards to her father's agile future.

Thinking that was done with, James reached for his glass of brandy and Nareli stilled her breath. When he reached for the glass, the fabric of his greying shirt shifted for a few moments and that was enough time for her to see some of the tribal markings on his chest.

They were similar to the ones in her painting.

"Then you won't mind, Mr Delaney," she forced herself to speak once more. "That I stay to oversee this arrangement until I grow confident in your words."

James glared at her with hard eyes but Nareli didn't crumble under his intimidating gaze. He merely took a sip of his brandy and hummed low.

"I would expect nothing less from a concerned daughter."

He surprised her greatly by not calling her a bastard and he took great pride in knowing this with a subtle twitch of his lips.

"Brace, prepare a room upstairs," he ordered and glanced at Nareli once more.

"Pick one that is the most… paint friendly."


	3. Chapter 3

Brace was delighted by this turn of events. His flesh and blood would be living with him in the Chamber House.

He quickly prepared one of the guest rooms on the second floor by preparing a fire and putting clean sheets on the bed.

Nareli helped and ignored his commands to relax because she was technically, his master's guest.

"I'll draw ye a bath, down the hall," he said while Nareli poked the fire. She put aside the poker and shook her head.

"You are not my servant," she reminded him.

"Ye always have to make it difficult to care for ye," Brace grumbled and Nareli rolled her eyes.

"Dat," she groaned in Romani. "I am not a child, anymore. I can take care of myself."

"Ye dirty mug tells a different story," Brace scolded his daughter's lack of hygiene again that night. She was worse than his master this eve and James brought all kinds of filth home with his clothes.

"The dirt completes my disguise, Dat."

If she were still a child, Brace wouldn't give her sweets for a week for having poor hygiene. But since, she was a grown woman with a strong mind of her own, he instead left the room with a grumble.

The aging door clicked shut behind him and Nareli leaned against the fireplace with a sigh. The warm fire lit the room with an orange glow and she went to light the candlestick beside the bed to add more light to the room.

Her father followed James's orders, word for word. She did have a paint friendly room. The big windows will provide good natural lighting during the day and she had a lot of space to setup a large easel.

The bed was large and spacious with a grey canopy. She sat down to test the spring and laid back to sink into the mattress. The feeling of clouds greeted her spine and she couldn't help but smile at the comfort. At least she will lie well in the beast's lair. A comfortable bed to sleep on was a rare luxury for gypsies.

A vanity table also rested in the corner, a chest of drawers and a wardrobe. She was sleeping in a circle of dusty antique furniture. Dusty antique furniture that belonged to a family that died long ago.

The Chamber House was a museum, a relic dedicated to the Delaney's.

Thoughts of salt and exorcisms suddenly crossed her mind. Old furniture tended to carry the spiritual residue of its previous owners in her experience and spirits didn't usually like new houseguests.

Spirits also loved to mess with gypsies, especially ones that had psychic abilities. They were like beacons to them. Depending on she slept through the night; she might need to arm herself but her gut already nudged her mind to draw a circle of salt before she turned in.

Spirits loved to mess with gypsies, especially ones that had psychic abilities. With that grim fact, Nareli calmed her breathing, closed her eyes and spiritually stretched out her senses.

Unlike her vivid dreams, she couldn't hear, smell or see anything when she consciously switched her sixth sense on. She could only feel.

She barely opened the proverbial door on her senses when an overwhelming feeling of desperation, hunger and desire made her gasp on the bed.

Insaitable lust drummed along her veins and she was shocked at how quickly her body caught onto the strong web of emotions. Her nipples grew tight with arousal and that was when the fiery anger came. A strong but invisible hand wrapped around her delicate throat and squeezed. The emotion started to choke the very air out of her lungs and she clawed away from the bed.

She landed with a loud thump on the floor and gasped for air. The strong hold of those emotions instantly became slightly weaker when she cut physical contact with the bed and but that hand still had a bruising grip on her throat.

The bedroom door opened and Brace poked his head in to tell her the bathtub was full. As soon as he saw her fighting for air, he rushed to his fallen daughter's side with a frightened yell. In the distance, she faintly heard someone else run down some stairs.

" _Nareli?! What is it?!"_

Brace pulled her up and he noticed Nareli's lips start to turn a dusky blue. She tried to tell him with her frantic amber eyes that she needed to get out of the room and fast, while she continued to gasp for air. Whatever it was that had a grip on her throat, it was strangling her with a murderous rage.

Unsure on what to do, Brace lifted her up and tried to put her back on the bed. Nareli tried to push herself away from the mattress but it was no use. Her hands scratching at her crushed throat were weakening and fast.

James suddenly barreled into the room in nothing but a dirty old grey shirt and he took one calculating look at Nareli before he sprung into action. He quickly shoved Brace aside, lifted Nareli and carried her swiftly out of the bedroom.

The angry and invisible hand around her throat, immediately vanished as soon as James carried her out of the room and she was finally able to breath. She continued to breath deeply and cough against his shoulder while James carried her down the hall and took her downstairs. She faintly heard him bark at Brace to fetch water and tea with honey for her throat.

James carried her to the living room and carefully sat her down in a chair by the fireplace. The fire was still lit and he ran a critical eye over her neck. He narrowed his blue eyes at the angry bruises that marred her olive toned skin. They looked like finger marks.

Brace quickly entered with a tray of water, tea, honey and brandy. He set the tray down beside them and Nareli was surprised when James helped her sip some water because she was still too weak. She sighed as the liquid soothed her burning throat.

"I wouldn't try that again in this house," James made her hold the cup of water.

"I wasn't doing anything," she coughed. James threw her a condensing look and Nareli, gladly returned his piercing stare.

"What did she do, James?" Brace intervened and James broke their stare off to glance at his servant.

"Your daughter is the pot, Brace and she is calling the kettle black."

"I am sitting right here!" Nareli coughed loudly but James chose to ignore her outburst and poured himself a glass of brandy.

"Instruct your daughter to let the dead rest with her gypsy ways. I will only come to her aid once." He outlined with hard blue eyes and a grim look passed over Brace's features.

He simply nodded.

"Det, I need to speak to Mr Delaney alone," Nareli moved to stand but Brace moved to make her stay put in the chair. He didn't like that idea at all but Nareli pushed his concern aside.

"Det!" She shouted and James raised his stern eyebrows at how quickly her mood turned aggressive. Those amber eyes of hers shone with a fire now instead of look bleak.

Brace's shoulder slummed in visible defeat and James wondered why his usual hardheaded and stubborn servant suddenly threw in the towel.

Brace usually displayed more fight than this and he still did but never with a gypsy. Particularly a _Badi_ gypsy like his daughter. She might share his blood but the _Badi_ blood in her veins and how her mother reared her told him another story. Nareli was more gypsy than British and he knew what gypsies were capable of.

"I can't sleep there, Det," Nareli told her father with serious eyes and he didn't question her further on it.

"I'll prepare the other guest room for you, petal pie. It will be the one next to the bathroom."

Nareli quickly held up a hand and dismissed that idea with a brief shake of her head.

"I will sleep here," she said in a firm tone and Brace frowned at that arrangement. His daughter deserved a bed.

"Can you please get me some salt, Det?" Nareli asked and Brace walked off with a grumble.

As soon as they were alone, Nareli forced herself to stand and she kept her gaze on James while she swallowed the rest of her water.

With that one long stare of her fiery amber eyes, she sized up the beast that was Mr James Delaney… standing there in the glow of the fireplace with nothing but a dirty grey shirt that reached his thighs.

James didn't waste time either.

His blue eyes sized up the gypsy in front of him too while he drank the rest of his brandy. Her long dark brown curls fell to her supple hips and those long curls lay in disarray around her fiery amber eyes.

Her face was long and slender like her Romani brethren and she had the full lips. If he didn't know Brace was her father, he never would've been able to pick that parentage. Nareli had her father's strong chin.

It would be a lie if he said he didn't find Brace's bastard daughter attractive. She was wild in her gypsy beauty. She was savage. But most importantly, she was strong and she owned her freedom. She represented things he would have never found alluring if he didn't disappear all of those years ago.

"You are not just a painter," James chose his words carefully. She might be beautiful but this one was a dangerous beauty that could shoot a man dead without batting a tear. He quickly learned that at Helga's brothel.

Nareli chose to let that comment slide… for now. Instead, she reached to pour herself a cup of tea for her sore throat. Her voice still sounded raspy from nearly being strangled to death.

James didn't move an inch and idly watched her take a sip of her tea before putting the cup back down.

He kept his face emotionless when she suddenly moved to stand toe-to-toe to him. She stretched that long neck of hers back because she only reached his sternum and she narrowed her amber eyes.

"No, Mr Delaney. I am not just a painter. I am many things… just like you are many things apart from being the master of this house."

James merely hummed at her attempt to pry into his head.

He strangely felt like he was in a bubble. He could no longer hear the crackling of the fire. It was as if, he was in a room within a room and he only had Nareli for company.

Those amber eyes of hers were suddenly glazed over and he tensed when he finally realised what this gypsy was doing. Nareli was stretching out with her sensors through the house again.

It seemed longer than a few seconds when she taped into the energies of the Chamber House once more but it was long enough for her to get a spiritual roadmap of it before James snapped her out of it again with a physical shake.

The ghosts of the Chamber House wouldn't harm him. They coveted his darkness, which was why she turned her sixth sense one again in his presence.

"It wasn't your mother who attacked me. She likes to stay in her room which you keep bolted shut."

James's grip on her upper arms tightened at her words.

"And your father… likes to roam the attic."

"I know that already, gypsy," James bit out. He didn't like her prying into his business one bit.

"No ghost roams that room you put me in, Mr Delaney. What I felt was a memory… trapped in time."

"You made a terrible mistake tonight, gypsy and that was to reveal your abilities to me," he growled.

"Whose room was it, James?" She demanded and James shot her a murderous glare.

James shoved her away and that was how Nareli knew she struck a nerve but she persisted against her better judgment.

"Was it your room? Or, your poor half-sisters?"

James seized her by the throat in a blink of an eye and Nareli fought against his gripping hold.

"I am only going to tell you once more, gypsy. Let the dead rest or join them," he warned low and that was when Nareli finally met the beast, bleeding out of James's blue eyes.

"I am not going anywhere, Mr Delaney," She bit out strongly despite her fear.

"And not anytime soon, gypsy. We have a new deal now. You, work for me."

"And if I don't?"

"Your father will get a new list of duties and they are not pretty tasks like polish the silver."


	4. Chapter 4

After Nareli surrounded herself with salt by the fire, she was able to sleep soundly for a handful of hours on the couch before the dreams started.

Delaney was at the forefront of them again and his intense blue eyes floated over prison bars and shackles. Then her dreams took the most bizarre of turns… she saw Delaney dancing in a wig and dress.

That dream only lasted a few seconds before her consciousness couldn't help but force laughter from her throat.

Why would the dark and beastly James Delaney be wearing a dress and primrose coloured lipstick?

She woke up in the grips of giggles only to see James glare down at her side, holding a pocket watch.

His grey shirt from the night before was long gone and in its place was a dark suit with his trademark top hat and long coat.

Nareli took one look at him and laughed out harder which ripped James's usual gloomy glare right off his face. He genuinely looked puzzled at her reaction to him. But at the same time, he couldn't help but feel insulted yet again by Nareli.

He stroked fear in everyone not laughter and that irritated the hell out of him.

"Compose yourself," he ordered sharply and Nareli jumped a little at his sudden sharp tone and sobered up straight away with a yawn.

That was much better.

"Your second task of the day is to clean up this salt," James pointed with a boot. "I don't want a rat infested house."

But Nareli didn't exactly hear him while she finished her yawn. "What is the time, your royal stalking highness?"

James immediately frowned at the question and Nareli dared to smirk while she continued to lie comfortably on the couch.

Did she seriously not learn anything from last night? He wasn't a man to be trifled with. He was dangerous and she should be walking on eggshells around him.

"Lambs do not taunt lions, Miss Badis-Thomas," he warned and he watched with a morbid fascination how her teasing amber eyes darkened with defiance.

"And lambs do not spy on sleeping lions," she taunted him right back and James bit back a growl at her words but the deep sound still rumbled in the dark recesses of his throat.

The quicker this gypsy learned not to trifle with his authority, the better this business relationship would be for her.

Nareli knew deep down she was playing with fire and she allowed her body to go limb when James lost his temper. The quilts her father gave her to sleep under fell to the floor when James yanked her up by the arms with a biting grip.

His gloved hands bit into her wrists but whatever he planned to growl next died on his curled lip.

Angry blue eyes took in the rest of her and made him pause while a new awareness of the gypsy heated his blood.

The gypsy slept in nothing but a nightshift that had seen better days. The white fabric was threadbare and with her darker toned skin, he could see what lived and breathed beneath.

Curves and shapely legs that went on for days, and breasts that would overflow the span of his palms if he explored them.

Nareli quickly lost her bravado when she noticed the shift in James's attentions. Those blue eyes of his lessened in their irritation and ignited with a telltale heat she knew all too well. Desire.

She swallowed hard and then damned the cold of the living room. She could feel her nipples harden against the fabric of her shift. But the longer, James stared down the length of her body, she strangely started to feel warm at his perusal and that was when, James forced his sharp gaze back on her face.

Then to her utter amazement, he released her wrists but didn't step away. As a precaution, Nareli reached to cover herself with a fallen quilt. It was only then that she noticed James return to his usual gloomy state. That big and muscled chest of his, released a deep breath as if he was getting his train of thought back together.

"Your third task of the day is to buy a new nightgown and robe that can withstand the cold," he dug a hand into a coat pocket and moved to leave a few coins on the mantel of the fireplace.

His words caused Nareli to feel mixed emotions to her surprise. A part of her was pleased that James wouldn't use her like a whore but another part of her felt crestfallen.

James then went about starting a fire and Nareli watched his broad but strong shoulders move to get the task done.

This man was dangerous. A beast but he was a being that perked her interests and that hardly happened the older she got.

He was a beast wrapped up in a closet of mystery and sugarcoated with a ruggedly handsome appeal that was both raw and finely tuned to fool civilized society. It was quiet the rare mix.

Once the fire brewed, James stood up to rest his gloved hands against the mantle. He seemed a lot more put together now, like he had control once more.

But unluckily for him, Nareli wasn't going to let this new window she had into him, close up and die.

She didn't dream about him for nothing and she had to find out why.

"I do not need a new nightgown."

James whipped around to face her as if her words struck a cord in him and they did.

"Lambs and lions do not frolic. They devour each other."

"For the last time, I am not the lamb here, James Delaney," Nareli frowned and James clenched his jaw.

"You will buy a nightgown that is suitable for sleeping in the living room-

"And if I don't?" She dared to interrupt and James stalked her closely.

"You're going back in the guest room."

"Like hell, I am," Nareli hissed and James just stared into her amber eyes, deeply.

"You don't peg me to be the stupid type, gypsy. Don't let me down now," James pointed out and Nareli craned her neck back to meet his glare head-on.

No one told her what to do. Not even James Delaney. She might be working for him for the sack of her father but he didn't control what she wore to bed.

"Beast, you might be, James Delaney but you are also a man and that man can control himself," she bit out and to emphasis her point, she let the quilt around her slip to the floor.

Out of sheer force of will, James kept his eyes on her beautiful exotic features.

"And gypsy, you might be, Miss Badis-Thomas but you are also a woman and that woman can control herself too," He fired her words at her with quick succession and he backed it up with a slight smirk.

Nareli backed up with a scowl and turned to leave so she could ready for the day but James didn't leave her side. His gloomy and heavy presence followed her to the staircase.

"Dress in your best suit," he ordered and Nareli paused on her way up the stairs. James watched her long curly hair swing around as she faced him once more.

"And why should I waste my best shirt on you?"

"How would you think Brace would fair in a Molly House, gyspy?"

That shut her up good and James hummed at her first display of obedience for the day.

"Be ready when I return at sunset."


	5. Chapter 5

Brace knew something was amiss when his hardheaded daughter disappeared without eating breakfast. He knew she was gone when she didn't appear to see why James and him were making such a racket before when they dragged a safe upstairs.

He thought against approaching the subject with James and left his master to eat his fill while he got started on his chores.

He grabbed a broom and dustpan to sweep the front entrance but when he passed the living room, he spotted the remains of his daughter's sleeping nest.

A circle of scattered salt still surrounded the antique couch and she left her quilts on the floor.

Brace silently shook his head at her lack of tidiness. It was a trait she inherited from her mother. So with a mental note to discuss this mishap later with Nareli, he went about sweeping up the salt.

He was sweeping up the last of it and chucking the lot to melt in the fireplace when James paused to watch what he was doing by the entryway.

He looked like he was about to leave.

"Brace," he grumbled and Brace glanced his way while he reached to fluff up some cushions.

"Aye?"

"How much salt did you clean up?"

"All of it, why?" Brace answered, giving his master an odd look and he recoiled a little at the sudden mad look that enveloped James's blue eyes.

"I'll be back at sunset," he stormed off with another grumble and Brace shook his head once he was alone.

Bloody mad Delaney mood swings. That was a hair-raising trait James inherited from his old man.

 _ **Page break.**_

Nareli waited around the corner for James Delaney to make his appearance from the Chamber House and while she stuck to the shadows in her poor teenage boy disguise, she munched on an apple for breakfast.

Today was the day she was going to find out the real reason why James Delaney returned to London.

And like magic, the mysterious but handsome beast that haunted her dreams resurfaced in the front garden and he did not look happy. Nareli smirked.

She had a feeling it was about her first act of defiance for the day. She did not sweep up that salt on purpose and she made a mental note to get her father something in silent apology.

With skillful eyes, she tracked that unmissable top hat of Delaney to the Chamber House's nearby stables.

James's long dark coat flicked up when he mounted his horse and a barrel of attraction slammed into Nareli hard.

In that nanosecond, the roughness of his roughhouse persona melted away and she caught a glimpse of the 'elegant Lord' he could be underneath. Those long but muscular legs of his stretched over and his posture was rod straight when he sat on the horse. The tightness of his trousers did nothing to hide the firmness of his behind and Nareli swallowed her bite of apple down hard.

The flicker of James's tight trousers ended sooner than she liked before his coat covered him up again.

Elegant was not a word she thought she would use to describe James Delaney, and she cursed herself for merely thinking it.

The Delaney household had three horses. Two dark brown mares and a pearly white mare. James chose the white mare and Nareli felt slightly taken back by his choice. That white horse will make his stick out like a sore thumb but she knew James was the kind of man that did everything with a purpose.

James wanted his presence felt through the dreary streets of London but for what purpose?

Nareli continued to munch on her apple while she tracked James trotting his way through the busy streets from a safe distance.

The white mare made him easy to track.

By the time she ate her apple down to the core, James looked like he had finally arrived at his intended destination. He quickly tied his horse up and Nareli watched how people gave James a wide berth when he stomped his way into what looked like a large inn.

It was Tabard Inn and Tabard Inn was an auction house.

Interesting.

People did not give Nareli a wide berth while she made her way over to James's horse. They never did when she was dressed as a poor teenage boy and that was why her disguise was so effective.

The horses tied up to the resting post outside the huge auction house were the only beings to take notice of her and that was because of the apple core, she still had between her teeth.

The sweet smell of apple no doubt enticed them.

James's horse nudged his head towards her mouth and Nareli spat out the apple core.

"Here's a fresh one," she fished out a fresh apple out of her jacket and helped the white mare munch on it.

James Delaney wanted his presence felt in London, well she was going to help the grouchy man with a firm backside.

She tries not to grin too much at the look on James's face when he eventually notices his horse gone.

 _ **Page break.**_

 _"Atticus!"_

Nareli bites back a snigger when she hears James yell out and he sounds pissed.

Nicu, her fellow gyspy and ex-lover merely shakes his head at her while they hang back in the shadows of Dolphin Tavern.

"Atticus!" James yells out again when he appears in their line of sight and Nareli has to bite down on her sleeve to muffle her snigger. She can't hold it in anymore.

"James Delaney. Well look at you! Sit down."

Atticus acknowledges his tavern's newest visitor and he wears the clothes of a sailor and has a tattoo, which covers his head and goes down onto his forehead. It is a compass and he has a short beard with a shaven head.

Atticus is lithe and hard and weathered like an oak timber, carrying a curved knife. He was the complete opposite to James Delaney.

"Give me back my horse," James grumbles and he frowns when Atticus has the decency to laugh while he pours them both a cup of ale from a jug nearby.

"I am not crazy enough to steal your horse, Delaney," Atticus's words stop James in his tracks and for the first time, Nareli sees the big man experience a moment of bafflement.

But before James can question Atticus about who took his horse and left a note with his name on it, Atticus pulled out a tiny notebook from his vest.

"What's the biggest thing you saw? For my files, my book about the world. What's the biggest thing you saw in Africa?"

James knows Atticus's ways, knows he has no choice but to play along. So, he hides a grumble and reluctantly takes a seat.

"A elephant," he answers.

Keen to hear more, Nareli is about to move closer to the pair they are spying on when Nicu, grabs her hand and yanks her back.

In any other circumstance, she would've fought off his hold on her but if she made a scene now, James would no doubt see them so she goes along.

Without a word, she lets Nicu lead them out of the back of the tavern and he doesn't let go of her hand until they are in the thick of the docks again.

The stench of fish instead of liquor smacks into Nareli's nostrils and she takes a moment to get used to the fishy stench.

"You are playing with fire," Nicu finally lets go of her hand when he rips into her with a frown and Nareli just glares him down.

"And you play with fire every time you try to tell me what to do."

Nicu sighs at her attitude and loses some of the hardness in his deep brown eyes. That one statement reminds him why they could never work.

He could never control Nareli and pin down her wild whims when she put her mind to something.

"Why him?" He tries to get a gauge on her sudden interest on the once thought dead 'James Delaney.'

Again, Nareli just glares at him with her amber eyes.

Nicu rubs his tired eyes with another sigh. She wasn't even going to give him that. God, she was the most stubborn woman he had ever met.

"You cannot just show up here and expect me to answer your every beck and call."

"Correction, you and your gang will want to follow my every beck and call," Nareli folds her arms and Nicu barks out a laugh because he thought she was joking.

When it came to the gyspies in this part of London, he called the shots. He was the king and what happened behind closed doors was his domain. And once upon a time, Nareli nearly became his queen.

Nicu quickly loses his laugh when Nareli keeps looking serious.

"If I haven't already seen what lies between your legs, I would say that you have balls for saying that, Nareli," he growls.

"The Delaney shipping company is back in business, Nicu. Don't you want in on the deal?"

Nicu tried not to look too interested to hear more.

"Delaney came to kick Helga out."

"Bullshit, Nareli. Helga is still running her business as usual.

"As far as you know," Nareli shot back and forced him to think about it.

"Is that why you put Atticus's name on that note?"

Nareli shrugged. "I figured you would want to know what your partner is up too… it was only a matter of time before he got involved with Delaney. I just sped up the process."

Word on the street was if you wanted anything criminal done, you went to Atticus. Everyone in the London underground knew this.

"You want to know what Delaney is up too," Nicu quickly put one and two together, and Nareli smiled when he finally got it.

"And what's in it for me to feed you information?" he demanded and Nareli's smile fell away.

"You'll finally have my forgiveness."

Nicu breathed in deeply but he still asked because he needed to be sure. "For what?"

"For breaking my little naïve heart… we will be even then."

Nicu exhales at the flicker of old pain that envelopes Nareli's eyes. He has no words so he simply nods and agrees.

He had been begging for her forgiveness for years.

He then watches how the amber in Nareli's eyes harden before she turns to walk away, taking her monogamous heart with her.

By nature their people loved whenever the feeling struck them and they never put restrictions on it except for a few.

Nicu was not one of those people and back in the day, he thought he could change Nareli's way of only loving one at a time and he failed miserably.

 _ **Page break.**_

After he paid Atticus fifteen pounds and the heels of his boots for not killing his father, the veteran crook agreed to become his eyes and ears.

But the timing of this part of his plan happening ahead of schedule set James's teeth on edge.

Someone incredibly stupid was messing with him and he vowed to find out who.

He muddled over who it could be while he approached his horse tied up outside.

The steed barely glanced his way with his brown eyes. He was too busy munching away at a green apple core?

Perplexed at who would give away such a tasty treat to a horse in this poor part of London, James investigates his horse's mouth.

With a gentle coaxing, his horse gives up the green apple core and lets it drop into his gloved hand. He will figure out who gave it to his horse later because right now, his sixth sense told him he was being watched.

 _ **Page break.**_

Nareli continued to watch James from a far and she raised her eyebrows when she spotted Winter, Helga's daughter engage James in conversation.

What was the little thirteen year old up to now?

Curious, Nareli crouches down behind some crates so she can eavesdrop on the two chatting. They stopped their stroll in the shipyard.

"Who are you?"

"Winter."

"Miss Winter?"

"No. Just Winter."

"Just Winter," James reacts with mild astonishment. Winter is a young black girl, half African, with black hair cropped short to her head and yet she speaks with a soft London accent.

"I live with the whores but I'm a virgin," Winter replies and Nareli can see that James is hiding his curiosity.

"Why are you following me?" He asks.

"To save your life."

Now, that was definitely an answer Nareli wasn't expecting out of Winter.

James waits and Winter continues on.

"The mistress Helga gave information to a man with a silver tooth. I spy on her."

James continues to study young Winter and that is all, Nareli needs to hear and she creeps away.

She really needed to have that talk with Helga.

The bitch was orchestrating Delaney's immediate death and that did not suit her plans one bit.

With Delaney dead and no written proof that her father was entitled to the old Chamber House, he will be homeless.

"Bloody bitch," Nareli scowled when she was a safe distance away from James and Winter.


	6. Chapter 6

Nareli was not surprised to find Helga's brothel unchanged. The bitch was not budging. The complete opposite was happening, the woman was digging her nails harder into the place.

Nareli arched an eyebrow when she walked in and found the place in full swing this early in the afternoon. Helga usually opened up for business when the sun went down.

"Good day, good sir," a sweet feminine voice greeted to her left and Nareli got an eyeful of cleavage when she got approached by one of Helga's many working girls.

Josephine was her name if she remembered correctly.

To save the girl some embarrassment, Nareli took off her cap and fluffed out her long locks. As she anticipated, the cleavage show was quickly pulled under wraps when recognition blossomed in the girl's young brown eyes.

"Nareli," Josephine mouthed in surprise and Nareli quickly held a finger to her lips to silence the girl before she could make a scene.

"Where's your boss?" Nareli quietly demanded and Josephine answered without words. The forced sultry look vanished in her eyes and she glanced at the stairs.

There, Helga stood observing everything that happened below by the railing. Then it was like the old bitch sensed her out. Helga frowned when her dark eyes landed on her and Nareli gladly returned the frown.

Then to just fuck with the old bitch, she leaned in close to Josephine and slipped her a few pounds.

"If you want to get off your back quicker, go to the Dolphin Tavern and ask for Nicu. Tell him I send you and he will sort you out with better work. Feel free to spread the word," she quickly whispered and made her way to the stairs before Josephine could say anything else.

Nicu will follow through; he had a thing for putting prostitutes in better circumstances.

"You have some balls showing your face around here," Helga spat when she reached the stairs and Nareli powered up them without retorting back. Good, the bitch took her disappearing act as a sign that they no longer worked together.

Instead, she took in her lay of the land and she was pleased to discover that Helga was alone near the railing and she went to work.

"True but my balls are a lot smarter than yours, Helga. Ignoring a Delaney's demands to leave?" Nareli tsked.

"We have an arrangement, Mr Delaney and I," Helga folded her arms and Nareli rolled her eyes.

"Killing him won't solve your problems, you old foolish bitch."

Helga's nostrils flared at the insult and she stormed over until she stood nose to nose with Nareli.

"Get out, you half-bred bastard or…

"Or, you'll what?" Nareli snapped with sarcasm.

"Or, you'll be next!" Helga warned with deadly promise. "And how the hell do you know about my arrangements?!"

Instead of backing away with fear, Nareli chuckled at the threat before she flipped her own deadly switch.

One dirty gloved hand yanked Helga's head back by her hair and the other quickly pulled out a knife from her coat.

She rested the blade underneath Helga's right eye and the madam was at a serious disadvantage when Nareli used her body to trap Helga against the railing. She might appear to be curvy in form but underneath all that brown skin of hers was a lot more muscle and strength than Helga had.

Helga quickly learned that when she couldn't break her hold on her and Nareli hushed her struggle by adding pressure to the knife she had at her eyelid.

"I never raise a weapon with false intent, Helga. If I have too, I will use this and I won't lose any sleep over it because in the long run, Winter is better off without you and your establishment," Nareli warned with unflinching eyes and Helga believed her every word. She gulped a little against the blade and a trickle of blood slipped down her cheek.

"You broke our arrangement… what more do you want from me?" Helga forced out.

"Call off your hit on Delaney and do what he says," Nareli ordered.

"And if I don't?" Helga had the guts to ask and she hissed when Nareli tightened the hold she had on her hair while simultaneously dragging her blade down her cheekbone.

She made a nice shallow slice and Helga got another fright to add to her never-ending list. She froze when Nareli quickly moved her bloodied knife to her jugular while she leaned over to lick the blood off her cheek.

"Hmmm…" Nareli hummed and rested her lips near Helga's ear.

"Delaney is not the only beast to haunt this part of London, Helga. But unlike him, I won't just stop with destroying your life here in London. Once I am done with tearing you and your livelihood apart piece by piece, I will follow you into hell after I bleed you dry."

To drive her point home, she forced her tongue down Helga's throat and force-fed her the metallic taste of her blood.

When she eventually eased her hold on the old bitch, Helga shoved her back with a disgusted look on her face and she was compliant in her dark eyes. Nareli barely stumbled while she released another dark chuckle. Sometimes it was fun to play the villain and she got a kick out of it.

"I'm only going to warn you once, Helga but either way, I will have my fun with you. Seeing Delaney boss you around will be amusing," Nareli muttered and Helga spat at her feet.

"Never fuck with a gyspy unless you want too, Helga," Nareli riled her up further with a wink and wiped her knife clean of blood.

Helga growled something else but she didn't pay her any attention while she stormed down the corridor, further into the old shipping offices. Her job was done here. She will use the back exit.

James Delaney did not return to the old Chamber House after the sun went down and as she initially anticipated, Nareli did waste her best suit on the beast.

She gave the grumpy lord of the house a few hours before she gave up on the idea that she will be accompanying him to the Molly House that evening.

So, she settled in and helped her father with preparing dinner. It was a much-relaxed event without James's rough energy and he was not mentioned. Then after a nightcap of whiskey, Nareli went to bath upstairs while her father retired to his room.

The warm bath did wonders to her tense body and was much needed after the last intense twenty four hours she had. She was ready to retire to the living room to sleep in no time and start again.

She kept her time upstairs brief and did not dare to dabble with the spirits and old energy polluting the old Chamber House. Her still bruised throat told her otherwise. Not that she wouldn't dabble with the spirits and energy trapped in the house again, she needed a few weeks to regroup, heal and plan out her next approach. Strategize in a spiritual sense.

After putting on the same nightgown James ordered she should throw out, Nareli collected another blanket to use downstairs.

She wrapped the dark material around herself while she descended the stairs and that was when she caught whiff of a particular odor… fish and seawater?

Perplexed, she went to quickly investigate where the stench was coming from and she found her answer in the living room.

The fireplace was lit and the bulky hunched over shadow did nothing to hide James Delaney sitting by the fire. The more she moved closer, the stronger the stench of fish and seawater got. She had to hold the blanket over her mouth when James finally glanced her way.

He was in nothing but his grey shirt again and he was soaking wet.

"Next time you feel like going swimming, let me know so I can freshen up the house with lavender," Nareli couldn't help but scold him like a naughty child.

James just glared in reply. "And next time you feel like taking my horse gypsy, give the mare red apples. He doesn't eat the core from green ones."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Mr Delaney," Nareli tried to act aloof and she cautiously watched James's strong jaw tighten like he was grinding down on his back molars.

"You are more trouble than you're worth gypsy."

Nareli fought back a smirk at that accurate observation.

"Why do you look like the harbor just spat you out, James?" She asked instead and James went back to glaring at the fire, humming low in reply.

"Acting stupid is not your strong suit, gypsy."

"Neither is yours, Mr Delaney," Nareli quickly replied on reflex but deep inside, she was reeling. She just could not fool this man it seems and it was bruising her pride.

But little did she know but James was starting to feel the same way about his reluctant houseguest.

"Go sleep upstairs, gyspy and let me be," James retorted.

"That I can't do."

"Gypsy," James hissed in warning and against her better judgement, Nareli ignored the dark beast she was provoking with her stubbornness and resumed what she initially doing, which was going to sleep.

James raised his eyebrows when he watched Nareli walk out of the living room and he resumed his staring match with the fireplace. That was easy, he thought.

Or, so he thought when he suddenly heard the shuffle of Nareli's feet walk back into the living room and he tiredly rubbed his temples.

She was his manservant's daughter. He did not want to force her obedience.

"As much as I enjoy playing this little battle of wills game with you, Mr Delaney, I think it will get neither of us anywhere. Nor will it get us closer to what we want."

Nareli's voice droned on through James's ears and he bit back hard on his back molars. He heard the telltale sound of a tray being placed down and he glanced at the contraption out of curiosity.

She brought him a glass of whiskey and a cup of hot lemon tea. Beside the two beverages, he spotted a large container of salt and that was when his resolve started to break.

"Now, may I suggest that you get off your high horse and brood after you tell me why you are soaking wet?" Nareli muttered and held out the cup of hot lemon tea for James to take.

James's icy blue eyes glanced at the cup briefly before they resettled on her form with a darkened expression.

"You did not buy a new nightgown," he hissed and Nareli quickly noticed how the blanket around her shoulders slipped to reveal the top of her barely there nightgown.

A slight smirk traced her lips but quickly fell away she noticed James start to rise out of the chair. Then she acted on pure instinct when James launched for her throat.

She tossed the hot tea on him with a surprised yell and James barely flinched when he tackled her onto the couch but the fight was long from over.

James yelped when Nareli managed to knee him in the groin but he didn't let up like she expected him too. It was like trying to punch a hole through iron.

"Get off me!" She shrieked in hopes of alerting her father when James managed to get a firm hold around her waist and throw her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"Father!" Nareli shouted when she couldn't shake James's hold on her and she punched his back repeatedly when he started to move.

James merely grimaced at her hard hits while he carried her towards the stairs.

"James?! What on earth are you doing?!" Brace exclaimed from the top of the stairs when he spotted them, looking half asleep in his nightclothes.

"Tell him to unhand me, father!" Nareli relented angrily and James just heaved her even more over his shoulder while he climbed up the stairs.

"Get the salt, Brace and get a few of my mother's old nightgowns," James thundered with a crazy look in his icy blue eyes.

Not wanting to upset his master, Brace immediately obeyed with a fearful look in his eyes. As soon as Nareli saw this, her fight against James's hold faltered extremely.

Even her old man feared the ground James Delaney walked on, she realised with horror.

The next thing she realised was that she was bouncing on a bed, the same bed she tried to sleep on last night.

James just threw her whole body weight onto the mattress like she weighed nothing.

"Now," James growled and threw the ends of the bed's quilt over her form.

"Take that fucking nightgown off before I do!"

To anyone else, that thunderous shout would spike fear but not with Nareli. Instead… she damned herself for feeling a tad turned on by James's aggressiveness. There was power there and it could all be hers to ride if she chose too. Nareli gulped.

"Well?" James barked with impatience and since she already felt mildly embarrassed by her attraction to James Delaney, she surrendered.

With quick hands, Nareli yanked off her nightgown and used the quilt for cover. James snatched the barely there nightgown and ripped the fabric to shreds.

"You will sleep here and do as your fucking told gyspy!" James growled and he moved to storm out of the room with her shredded nightgown but he didn't get very far.

"I told Helga to stop her assassination attempt on you and since she didn't, she will now pay!" Nareli shouted at his back and James paused mid-step but he didn't turn around.

"She already has, gypsy," James muttered. "Be ready for the Molly House tomorrow evening… I hear they are in need of a painting."

"What the hell are you after James Delaney?!" Nareli demanded in frustration and James finally glanced her way.

"Obey and prove you are worth telling, gypsy."


End file.
